


Golden Sun, Silver Moon

by munbyeol (le_bjorn)



Category: Mamamoo
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, Background Relationships, Demigods, Dragon Kim Yongsun | Solar, Dragons, F/F, Gen, Goddesses, Immortality, Palace Guard Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul, Reincarnation, Shapeshifting, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:14:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21918904
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/le_bjorn/pseuds/munbyeol
Summary: Secret santa gift for Ara!Byulyi is nothing more than a queensguard in a city beneath a great mountain atop which a mysterious golden palace sits. Little does she know, that palace contains the secrets about her past and more than she could ever imagine.{ Viet TL available }
Relationships: Kim Yongsun | Solar/Moon Byulyi | Moonbyul
Comments: 22
Kudos: 104
Collections: Kpop Writers - Secret Santa 2019





	Golden Sun, Silver Moon

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Prince_Ara](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Prince_Ara/gifts).



> Hi! I'm sorry the ending is a bit rushed, but I didn't have time to finish it the way I wanted to! I have a lot of other things to finish this week oof (so I also didn't beta it. Didn't even spell check. Rip. Anyway, I hope you enjoy~
> 
> [Vietnamese Translation (Wattpad)](https://www.wattpad.com/story/249485316-trans-oneshot-moonsun-golden-sun-silver-moon)

It is the first day of the Sun Festival, and the city at the foot of the mountain is alive with the festivities. Colorful streamers hang over the streets, cut paper banners are draped from every window, and the smell of meat and spices and sweets fills the air. The people crowd the streets, wearing silks in a myriad of colors, from the youngest babes to the eldest matrons.

Byulyi walks dutifully alongside the queen’s litter, her head held high and a hand at the sword on her belt. Like the other female guards, her hair is pinned up with two long gold hairpins, her lips are touched with rouge, and her eyes lined with gold. She wears the same gold and white hanbok over a fine mail hauberk as the rest of the guards, much unlike the usual black uniforms embroidered with red the queensguard were accustomed to. Though in one respect she stands out among the guards marching beside the queen; her hair is like spun silver, glimmering in the sunlight, and her eyes soft violet, oft compared to the fragrant lavender fields in the southern provinces. People whisper that she is blessed by the gods—she isn’t sure of that, but she was born under the light of the moon, named for th stars, and blessed with moondew by a high priestess of the moon goddesses on the night of the full moon.

Children, men, and women alike tug on her clothes as she walks, full of awe, but she keeps her gaze forward and on guard. There should be no trouble today, but one can never be too careful. Assassins and rebels still lurk the city during festivals.

It does not take long to reach the gardens at the foot of the mountain. They departed from the palace, from which a central avenue led right to the gardens. The avenue is the most popular street in the city, lined with expensive shops and tea parlors and bakeries beside nobles’ residences and garden plazas.

The procession slows as the queen’s litter approaches the waterfall. The falls are the centerpiece of the garden, the end of a mountains stream that tumbles down the slopes alongside an old cobblestone path that leads to the very top, where the Palace of the Sun is perched beside a cold mountain lake—or so the stories say. Byulyi has never been to the top of the mountain herself, only ever heard stories from Seokjin and the other guards that have. The path begins beside the moss-draped falls, guarded by two stone dragons and four guards dressed much like Byulyi. They are all down on one knee as the queen is escorted from her litter.

She is young, barely of age, but she lacks not in beauty. Her hair is loose down her back, jet black and wavy, and her dress is elaborate and bright, made of hand-embroidered silk brocade in gold and white and accented with pink and aquamarine. Around her neck is a choker of rubies and pearls, and heavy sapphires hand from her ears. Atop her head sits a crown of silver of diamonds.

Seokjin, the captain of the queensguard and a close friend of Byulyi’s, is the one to escort the queen to the stocky, well-groomed mountain horse waiting at the stone dragons. He helps her into the basket saddle affixed to its back; even with the weight of her dress, the horse doesn’t seem to struggle. She’s a tiny little thing. Seokjin will accompany the queen to the Palace of the Sun, along with four other guards.

Byulyi is surveying the crowd, boredom flickering inside her, when she feels a hand on her shoulder. She turns, surprised to see Seokjin smiling at her. “Haseul stayed behind at the palace,” he explains, chipper as ever. “I need you to join the escort in her place.”

Her eyes widen. “Me?” Haseul was supposed to help escort the queen, she knew that, but she certainly hadn’t expected Seokjin to choose Byulyi to replace her. There were plenty of more experienced guards than her.

“Yes, you,” he laughs. “Come, now; the queen is waiting.”

She looks over, and sees that the queen is indeed watching the two of them expectantly, with her wide hazel eyes. She looks back at Seokjin and gives him a short nod. “Yes, sir.”

Seokjin leads the queen’s horse, the golden lead clutched in his gloved hands, while Byulyi follows behind with Yuqi, Jihyo, and Soobin. The trek up the mountain will be a long one, requiring many breaks, but the cheers of the people follow them—the people will wait for an hour, watching them hike up, but then they will disperse. The queen spends the entirety of the week-long festival in the palace, meaning Byulyi will too—something she did not prepare herself for, but a missed year of the festivities and breaking up drunken skirmishes in the plaza has no loss on her compared to visiting the Palace of the Sun.

Every child in the citadel looks up at the Palace in wonder, wishing to one day visit. Not many are allowed, of course—only the queen and her guards, and the occasional priestess. The Palace is a place of legend and lore; some say the gods reside there, some say the saints, and some say it lies empty. Some even claim that dragons live there.

Byulyi’s never imagined that she would be one of the few that gets to see what the Palace truly is. Jin never really told anyone what was really there—he was forbidden, as Byulyi would be, to tell anyone. (Seokjin definitely told his husband, the queen’s cousin—Jimin always gave a sly little smile when Byulyi asked, though he pretended not to know.)

It takes five hours on foot, in total, before the white marble steps of the palace come into view. The path opens out into a square with a fountain situated in the middle. Seokjin helps the queen off her horse with a little bow, while Byulyi silently takes in the view of the Palace, as close as she’s ever seen it.

It glitters gold in the light of the sun, and the beautiful towers that seem to defy the laws of the universe are made of a substance Byulyi has never seen before that shines like fire and ice all at once. She stares at it for so long that she barely even hears Seokjin calling for their attention.

“Guard, attention,” he calls, and Byulyi thinks it might be the third time he’s said it, but he doesn’t sound annoyed. She shakes out of her reverie, though, and when she looks around she sees that the other three guards were in similar states. Seokjin has been up here several years in a row, and it is the second time the queen has been here since she took the throne a little more than a year ago, so neither of them are in the same state of awe, but Byulyi knows that Yuqi, Jihyo, and Soobin are here for the first time, as well.

“It’s a stunning sight, isn’t it?” Seokjin asks to no one in particular as they begin to ascend the steps.

The queen is the first to reply, and Byulyi startles a bit at hearing her voice. She doesn’t often speak, not even while holding court—some think she thinks herself better than the common folk, but Seokjin says she’s simply shy, and still learning the ways of the court. “It is still as beautiful as last year,” she says, her voice high and sweet. She’s holding the folds of her dress tight to keep from tripping on them. “I am quite excited for our visit. I hope it will be as wonderful as last year, as well.”

“What should we expect?” Yuqi asks tentatively. Her brown hair is twisted into the same style as Byulyi’s, but her bangs are loose and flying in the gusty wind atop the mountain. It’s colder here than it is in the citadel, and the wind is harsh; Byulyi hopes it won’t be long before they enter the Palace.

Seokjin glances back at her. They’re nearing the top of the staircase, and Byulyi can see a set of huge doors ahead. “I think that should be left a surprise,” he says with a wink.

The doors are slightly ajar, but they are so enormous that it’s plenty of room for them to walk in without issue.

The inside is even more amazing than the exterior, Byulyi quickly finds.

The doors open into a grand hall with arching gold walls bursting with decorative inlay. The ceiling is inlaid with the same gold, and huge open-air windows let in slanting rays of sun that light the room in the same brilliance as the exterior. Amber and diamonds sparkle in the walls, and the floor is tiled in an opalescent material that seems almost like the marble of the steps, but glitters with specks of gold throughout.

And at the end of the hall sits a throne of pure sculpted gold inlaid with the most jewels Moonbyul has ever seen in her life, and atop the throne is a woman with pale white hair tumbling over her shoulders, dressed in an elaborate gown that shimmers with even more gold, flowing like water down the sides of the throne, with a cream bodice crusted with rubies around the waist and diamonds over the low collar. There are no sleeves; instead, she has tattoos as white as her hair that seem to writhe on her skin, an armband of gold on her upper arm, and bracelets hanging in multitudes from her slender wrists. Her lips are rouged, her eyelids dusted in shimmering white, and her eyes are pools of molten gold, visible even from below her throne.

The queen kneels, then Seokjin, so Byulyi kneels as well, only just managing to rip her eyes away from the gorgeous woman.

“Stand, please,” the woman insists, her voice bright and clear. “Chaewon, how lovely it is to see you again.”

The queen smiles brightly and stands, and Byulyi and the rest of the guards stand with her. The queen and the woman exchange a short conversation, but Byulyi can’t take her eyes off the woman—and suddenly, the woman’s gaze fixes on her, sending a tingle down her spine.

“You,” the woman suddenly calls. “Your hair is unnatural in color—were you born that way, or did you have it altered?”

Byulyi’s eyes widen, shocked that the woman would even want to speak to her. She wasn’t a queen, she was barely anybody, so why— “Ah, no. I mean, yes, it is my natural hair.” She flushes at her stuttering.

“Such a color is uncommon in humans,” the woman muses. Without taking her eyes off Byulyi, she snaps her fingers and announces, “Well, I’ll have you shown to your rooms. You will be summoned for dinner later; I’m afraid it won’t be anything spectacular, as there aren’t many of us here, but I hope you will enjoy it nonetheless. Until then, however…” she trails off, her gaze still on Byulyi.

If the queen notices the woman’s queer behaviour, she graciously doesn’t comment. Instead, she gives a small bow, and Byulyi bows deeply with the other guards. When she straightens up, however, she has to hold back a gasp—beside her, Yuqi gives a short scream before clapping her hand over her mouth, to which the woman only laughs. Two brilliant gold dragons have appeared on either side of the throne, Their scales polished and glinting in the sunlight, their limbs thick with muscle, and their backs ridged. They look nearly identical, with piercing black eyes and smooth, gently curving horns, and like separate limbs, bracing on the floor and folded so that they stick up behind them.

As soon as they appeared, though, the two dragons disappear, and in their place stand a man and a woman, the man with soft orange hair and the woman with chin-length blonde hair. The man is wearing a simple sleveless tunic and loose trousers, all in white, a contrast to his tan skin, and the woman is wearing a light, loose white gown that hangs from her lightly tanned shoulders and hangs low in several places, so much of her back and sides are visible.

“Hoseok, Wheein, please show our guests to their rooms,” the woman commands them, her voice still as bright and kind as before. Byulyi gawks at the man and the woman, still bewildered by their sudden shift. It had been so abrupt that she barely caught it—all she glimpsed was a blur of motion and then, suddenly, humans where dragons once stood.

The man, Hoseok, approaches the queen and Seokjin, grinning, and holds out his arm for the queen. He leads her away, while the woman approaches Byulyi, Jihyo, Yuqi, and Soobin.

“HI! My name is Wheein. My brother Hoseok and I are Lady Yongsun’s wards, but if you need anything, there will be bells in your rooms; ring them, and one of us, or one of our servants if we are preoccupied, will come to assist you.” She beams at them. “Now, come with me.”

Byulyi follows her out of the hall, but she gave one last look back at the woman—who must be Lady Yongsun. Yongsun is giving her a piercing look, still intently focused on her, and it unnerves Byulyi.

“Do any of you have questions? I’ll do my best to answer them, as I’m sure you have many,” Wheein says, once they’ve left the hall far behind. The halls are similar in appearance to the hall, but much less grand, though the many windows that look out over the valley and the crest of the mountains below might be even more beautiful.

“You’re a dragon,” Jihyo states.

Wheein laughs. “Yes, I am. That’s not a question, though.”

“Who was that woman?” Byulyi asks, quickening her steps to keep up with the woman’s long strides—she is very fast, despite her height.

“That was Lady Yongsun! She is what you might call a goddess, of sorts, but she’s not quite as powerful as you make her out to be.”

“Is she a dragon, too?” Soobin pipes up. His hair is short, and windswept from the hike up. He’s one of the younger guards in the queensguard, and a bit soft when it comes to handling skirmishes in the city, so he’s always assigned with palace duty.

“Oh, yes, of course she is. She’s much older than my brother and I, however, so she doesn’t take her true form very often. Dragons never stop growing, you see, so she’s quite magnificent in her true form. I don’t think she’s shifted in over a decade, though.”

Yuqi and Soobin let out twin noises of awe, and Jihyo says, “How old are you, then?”

Wheein tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. “Ah, I’m only one hundred and twenty seven. My brother is the same; we hatched from the same clutch. We have a younger sister, Jinsoul, but she lives with our mother in the north. That’s where most dragons live, really, but Yongsun doesn’t like other dragons very much. There’s lots of fighting up there, and stealing.”

“Stealing?” Byulyi finds herself asking, despite herself.

“Oh, yes. The older dragons have their hordes, you know, and hatchlings often dare each other to steal things from so-and-so’s horde. Dragons know every coin in their hoard, though, so the trick is to steal something that won’t be noticed until the next full inventory, and dragons don’t do those very often; maybe twice a century or so.”

Yuqi smirks. “You sound like you’ve stolen something before. What was it?”

Wheein scoffs. “Me? Never,” she insists, but there’s a smile playing at the corners of her mouth.

The banter continues until they reach their rooms; Wheein stops them beside four open doors, two on each side of the hall, and instructs them to choose between themselves and informs them that someone will be in to fetch them for dinner. “Until then, you may bathe; there are bathrooms in each of the rooms with hot water from the springs in the mountain, and towels and soaps and oils and anything else you may need. Clothing will be brought for each of you before dinner. If you would like to occupy yourselves with books or games, there are shelves in each room with all sorts of things, but we’d appreciate it if you stayed in your rooms until someone comes to bring you to dinner. Lady Yongsun doesn’t like people wandering the halls; this palace is her horde, after all, and besides, you wouldn’t want to get lost.”

She seems like she’s about to leave, but before she can, Jihyo asks, “Can you…shift? Again? Sorry if that’s offensive but….well, I’ve never seen a dragon before.”

Wheein gives a mischievous smile and then she unfolds, quickly and fluidly. Byulyi doesn’t see where her clothing goes, which is an enigma in it of itself, but not every mystery can be solved. She imagines she’ll leave at the end of the week with even more questions than she came with.

With that, Wheein turns down the hall and leaves, and once she’s gone, Soobin lets out a groan, a smile spreading across his face. “Dragons! I’d never imagined that there might be dragons up here! And—and, the palace! It’s amazing!”

Jihyo sighs dreamily. “Lady Yongsun was beautiful, wasn’t she?”

“You two can keep yapping on, but I want a bath,” Yuqi announces loudly. “I want a bath.” With that, she spins on her heel and picks one of the rooms at random.

“I’m going, too,” Byulyi says. She picks the first room on the left, and closes the door behind her.

The room is as lavish and beautiful as the rest of the palace, with high ceilings and a huge window. There is a long chaise lounge by the window, and a shelf full of books just as Wheein said. The walls are hung with strings of fine gold chain, painted silks, and a woven rug is spread across the floor. The bed is made of both bamboo and wood carved with intricate designs of blossoms and dragons and clouds, with a thick mattress draped with silk sheets and covered with a fluffy, richly dyed blanket. Silk so finely woven it’s nearly see-through is draped over the posts of the bed.

On the other side of the room, there’s an open doorway that leads to what must be the bedroom, and inside is a stone bath built into the wall with a strange contraption on one end, with a lever. Byulyi experimentally pulls on the lever, and a stream of steaming water suddenly shoots out of the contraption. She lets out a very undignified yelp and quickly pushes the lever back before straightening up and continuing to explore the rest of the bathroom. There’s a bamboo mat on the floor, and soft white towels stacked on a flat surface, along with an array of soaps speckled with dried herbs and flowers, glass bottles of oils, jars of lotions and balms, and little clay pots full of makeup.

Byulyi picks up a bottle of oil and examines it, then sets it back down and goes back into the room.

There’s a knock at the door, three short raps, but when she strides across the room and cracks it open, there’s nothing but a neatly folded pile of clothing waiting for her outside the door. She bends down to pick it up, making eye contact with Soobin across the hall as he does the same—there is clothing outside of all the doors—and as she closes her door, she hears another open, possibly Yuqi’s or Jihyo’s.

She unfolds the clothing on her bed. There’s a dress much like the one Wheein had been wearing, in pale lavender, exactly like the color of her eyes, and a tunic and trousers like Hoseok’s, with a set of soft shoes. She feels the material, then leaves it on the bed and goes to the bathroom. With a tug on the lever, the bath quickly fills with steaming water. She looks over the line of bottles and jars and finds a jar of bath salts and another of dried rose petals; she sprinkles in a handful of both, then shuts off the water once it’s full.

She strips off her clothes and discards them in a heap on the floor, and takes out her hairpins, letting her hair tumble over her shoulders. She feels gross and sweaty from the hike up the mountain, and she only now realizes the ache in her legs. The excitement and anticipation is wearing off a little bit, so she’s finally able to process her body’s protests at being dragged up a mountain for five hours.

The bath is wonderfully hot when she sinks into the water, and she stays in it until it goes cold. Finally, she climbs out and spends several minutes figuring out how to drain the water out before she finds the latch on the opposite end of the tub that lifts part of the tub’s side and begins to drain the water.

While it drains, she combs her hair and makes use of some of the oils and lotions, and reapplies a light layer of rouge to her lips, then she slips into the dress on the bed. The material is cool and soft against her skin, and as soon as she’s dressed, she collapses onto the bed and coaxes her body to sleep.

She’s woken by a loud knocking at the door.

“Byulyi, wake up!” a voice calls, prompting her out of bed. She sits up and slides out of bed, padding over to the door. Yuqi is standing outside, her brown hair combed out, wearing a light blue dress with golden clasps on her shoulders.

Yuqi tilts her head and gaze pointedly over to the right, and Byulyi follows her gaze to find Wheein standing there, and Soobin. “Where’s Jihyo?”

“She’s sleeping, too,” Yuqi stage-whispers conspiratorially, one hand shielding her mouth as if the other two couldn’t hear her perfectly well. With that, she strides over to the other side of the hall and bangs on the door. “JIHYO!” she shouts, her voice echoing down the hall.

Soon, Wheein is leading them through the palace once again. They meet Seokjin, the queen, and Wheein’s brother as they’re walking, and Wheein greets her brother with a slap on the arm. “I told you to come after me, idiot. That was the plan. We’re trying to be all fancy here.”

“I was,” Hoseok insists, his offense obviously fake and dramatized. “You just took forever!”

She ends their little argument with a glare and a sweep of her skirts, and the two of them walk as a pair ahead, leading them along. Byulyi notices the queen hiding a laugh behind her hand; she’s changed, too, into another of those loose dresses, but in buttercup yellow with a loose white belt of the same material. She’s still wearing her crown, but she periodically pushes it up off her brow.

Wheein and Hoseok bicker most of the way, until they push open set of double doors together and usher them all inside. Lady Yongsun is sitting at the head of a table just big enough to fit the six of them, as well as Wheein and Hoseok. The table is set with porcelain painted with delicate cherry blossoms and pristine glasses. They all take their seats; the queen and Seokjin sit on either side of Lady Yongsun, Wheein and Hoseok sit beside them, and Byulyi takes her seat next to Wheein.

Lady Yongsun’s gaze settles on Byulyi again, though she begins speaking idly to Queen Chaewon. Byulyi looks around, shifting uncomfortably at the lack of food and drink to occupy her, but not a moment later, three people enter the room pushing carts laden with food. There’s two women with long jet black hair, and a man with jet black hair pulled into a messy bun, and Lady Yongsun greets them with a smile. “Thank you, hatchlings,” she says as they move the food onto the table.

There are baskets of steamed dumplings, bowls of noodle soup, bowls of rice, plates of still-sizzling meats, and tons of side dishes. There’s even a whole fish, garnished with sprigs of herbs and a slice of lemon, and a basket of bread rolls with a bowl of butter.

The three of them file out of the room, and Hoseok gives a little laugh. “They’re Yongsun’s old friend’s hatchlings,” he explains. “Only about twenty years old, each of them, and from the same clutch. They get a bit flustered when speaking to humans.”

“I didn’t see them last year,” Chaewon says, already piling food onto her plate.

“Oh, they just arrived about six months ago,” Yongsun explains. “Hatchlings don’t leave the nest until they’re older than twenty.” She takes a significant portion of the fish, and only when the queen takes a bite of her food do Byulyi and the other guards begin to serve themselves.

Throughout the meal, even as Yongsun and the queen chatter on and the three jet-haired hatchlings bring out desserts and wine, Yongsun’s eyes stay on Byulyi.

The hatchlings return to lead Byulyi, Yuqi, Jihyo, Soobin, and Seokjin to their rooms; when the doors to the dining room shut behind them, the two women introduce themselves as Soyeon and Heejin, and the man introduces himself as Jungkook. Heejin takes Seokjin to his rooms, likely across the hall from the queen as he is her personal guard, while the two women lead the rest of them.

Byulyi works up the courage to finally ask the two women about Yongsun’s unwavering stares.

She approaches them tentatively, adjusting the thin clasp of the dress on her shoulder as she does. “Excuse me, I have a question.”

“Oh?” Heejin answers, giving an awkward little laugh. “I probably can’t answer much, but I’ll try my best.”

“Why has Lady Yongsun been staring at me all night?”

Heejin shrugs and opens her mouth to answer, but Soyeon interrupts her. “It’s probably your hair.”

Heejin’s mouth snaps shut. “Oh, yeah, that too.”

“What were you gonna say?” Soyeon snorts.

“I dunno, it sounds stupid now.”

Byulyi wondered about that, too; was it really her hair? People in the city had gotten used to her hair, so she hadn’t thought much about it lately, but maybe it was something special. “Is there anything else it might be?”

Heejin shrugs again. “I really couldn’t say. I don’t know auntie Yongsun very well; you’d be better off asking Hoseok or Wheein. Even Hyejin might know.”

“Hyejin?” Byulyi asks.

“A human,” Soyeon explains. “She’s Wheein’s handmaid or something, but I think that’s just a cover for—”

Heejin shushes her, sounding slightly scandalized. “Stop gossping!”

“Alright, alright. Here are your rooms,” Soyeon says, boredly, and Byulyi quickly escapes to her own room.

She only gets a few short minutes of peace, however, before another knock comes at her door, and she finds Wheein waiting on the other side. “Lady Yongsun has requested your presence.”

“Why?”

Wheein just winks cryptically.

Yongsun’s rooms are at the top of a long, winding stair. Byulyi can only imagine that they’re ascending a tower of sorts, but the stair does not go up in one direction. It winds up, down, around, until Byulyi is throroughly lost, but Wheein seems to know where she’s going, so Byulyi dogs her steps anxiously. The dress still feels strange around her body; she’s used to heavy clothing, wool, covering robes. She feels naked without her layers, which only serves to exacerbate her anxiety.

Wheein arrives at a tall set of doors and pulls a long brass skeleton key, which she inserts into a sun carved into the door and twist until there’s a soft clank, and then she pushes the door open.

The rooms inside are the best in the palace, and Byulyi can clearly see it at just her first glance. They are certainly atop a tower, with a roof of paneled, curved windows arching up to a point, with fine lines of gold between each panel. It’s dark outside, but the entirety of the night sky is visible, from mountain-dappled horizon to the hazy, faintly glowing line of the seaport city in the distance. The moon shines down on the room, casting everything in a pale silver glow, and candles dapple the room, flickering and dripping wax.

She doesn’t realize that Wheein is gone until several moments have passed, and as soon as she glances over her shoulder, she hears her voice.

“So it is true,” Yongsun says, her voice softer than before, less bright. Sadder, maybe? But not quite sad—no, Byulyi can’t put her finger on that note of emotion in her voice, but she feels it in her chest like a soft blow.

Byulyi sees Yongsun sitting on a large, four-poster bed made of dark, carved wood far more beautiful than the bed in Byulyi’s room. Her legs are tucked under her, and her long hair is loose and wavy just like before, but it glows in the moonlight just as much as it did in the sun. It looks almost like a polished white pearl, with subtle notes of pale lavender and cornflower blue and a million other colors, all mixed into a sparkling white.

Yongsun….she looks ethereal.

“Uh…I…” Byulyi’s words die on her tongue.

“Come here, please. Sit.” Yongsun pats the bed next to her, and Byulyi tentatively strides over and takes a seat as far from Yongsun as she can, politely bowing her head. Yongsun shifts, leaning down onto her elbow. “There’s no easy way to say anything I’m about to say.”

“I—”

Yongsun puts a finger over her mouth, and Byulyi freezes, heat rushing to her cheeks. She can feel her blush all the way up to the tips of her ears. Yongsun just smiles softly. “What is your name?”

“Moon Byulyi,” she manages, once Yongsun removes her finger from Byulyi’s lips.

“Ah, yes.” Yongsun muses. “Byulyi. A pretty name, for a pretty face. Your hair is as beautiful as ever, but I nearly didn’t recognise you.”

Byulyi is beyond confused. “What do you mean?”

Yongsun sighs. “I have a very long story to tell you,” she says, standing up and sweeping the hem of her shimmering dress behind her as she strides over to one side of the room. She tugs on a silvery rope with a tassel at the end, connected to the wall, and then goes over to a chaise lounge placed beside a low, round table across from two cushioned chairs, and beckons Byulyi over. “Come, sit. Someone will be bringing us tea and snacks in a moment.”

“Oh, you don’t have to—” Byulyi starts, jolting up from the bed and stiffly making her way over, but Yongsun interrupts her.

“Byulyi, hush. It’s really no trouble, and nevertheless, you are worth more to me than you could ever imagine. Sit,” she insists, when Byulyi hovers uncomfortably near one of the cushioned chairs.

Byulyi sits, unsure what else to say. She doesn’t like cryptic things; she prefers to be told things straight, without beating around the bush, so she doesn’t have to puzzle over intentions or riddles or any such things. Yongsun is a confusing woman—or, dragon—and Byulyi isn’t sure what to make of her. It frustrates her, just a bit, but she dares not say anything.

“So,” Yongsun begins, leaning back on the chaise lounge. She laces her fingers together. “I beg your patience; it’s been a long time since I’ve told this story, and it’s impossible for me to tell it without getting a bit…well, emotional.

“Thousands of years ago, the moon was ruled by a cruel god. One day, he decided that he did not like to wait through the day to rise again, so he locked the sun away in iron chains that burned her wrists and neck, and the night lasted forever, since the sun could never rise. He ruled the everlasting night for a very long time, and took a star for his wife. The star birthed him three daughters; triplets. When the daughters grew old, however, one of them discovered the sun locked in her chains, and tried to free her. The god that ruled the moon killed his daughter in his rage, and went after his other daughters. He managed to kill the other, but the last daughter, the youngest of the triplets, was hidden away by her mother among the other stars, so that the moon could not find her.

“For a century, he searched for his daughter, and she slept away amongst the stars. But then, the daughter was awoken by the roar of the first dragon, and she found her way back to the moon and discovered the sun in her chains, just as her sister had. This time, she managed to release the sun, and the first day in a very long time rose over the land.

“The sun, in her anger, killed the god that ruled the moon, and his daughter was the only one left to rule the moon, so she took her place as goddess of the moon.”

Yongsun pauses when the door creaks open, and Hoseok steps in with a tray of tea and sweet cake. He strides across the room and wordlessly places the tray on the table in front of them, smiles at them both, then leaves, the door closing behind him. Yongsun reaches forward and slices two pieces of cake onto two gold and white plates, then prepares two cups of tea with cream and two cubes of sugar. “Here,” she says, sliding one of the slices of cake and a cup of tea to Byulyi. She takes one for herself, and uses a little fork to take a bite. “I must admit, my tastes are far more accustomed to roasted meats and cold water, but I’ve learned to enjoy the taste of sweets, as well. Wheein, Hoseok, Jungkook, Heejin—they still think anything other than meat is disgusting, but I have managed to get Soyeon to enjoy bread with jam, though not much else.”

Byulyi smiles politely and takes a bite of the cake, sips at the tea, then leaves them both on the table. “As you were saying?” she urges.

“Ah, yes. Of course. The daughter was now the goddess of the moon, and the first dragon had just been born. A thousand years pass, the land in harmony, and humans begin to build the first villages. But the dragons are growing larger in numbers, and the gods begin to grow fearful of them. Two dragons in particular are born: One with silver scales that glitter like the moon, and one with golden scales that shine as bright as the sun. They hatch on the same day, both sets of parents unknown; the golden dragon hatches during the day, and the silver dragon hatches later that night, under the light of the full moon.

“The dragons are powerful, more powerful than any of the gods, which makes the rest of the dragons brave. When the silver and gold dragons grow old enough, the dragons declare war against the gods. I won’t go into the grisly details of the war, because it was a long and terrible one, but eventually, the silver dragon falls in love with the goddess of the moon, and the golden dragon falls in love with a handsome firey brass dragon, and each couple has one child. One daughter. A dragon, and a demigod.

“When the silver dragon’s waver in allegiance is discovered by the dragons, the war becomes even bloodier and more terrible, and both daughters are hidden for protection. The golden dragon was angry with the silver dragon, whom she had trusted, and the silver dragon pleaded for forgiveness, but she would not bend, and in the end, silver dragon was killed by the golden dragon, and his body was burned.

“But this story is not about them. It is about the daughters of each dragon. The goddess of the moon, distraught from her loss, goes to the goddess of the sun and begs for her debt to be repaid. So, the goddess of the sun lets loose a terrible fire that burns all of the dragons; all but two. The golden dragon and her daughter.”

Yongsun shoves a very large bite of cake into her mouth at that moment and chews intently. She frowns, but her gaze is piercing uncomfortably into Byulyi. “I really don’t want to go on for too long. This really is a very long story, and I’m not very good at telling stories. I know I’m skipping over a lot of details, but you’d be here for months if I were to go through all of it. So, to be short, the daughter of the golden dragon and the daughter of the moon goddess fell in love, and I’d like to say that was that, but…”

Byulyi leans forward expectantly.

“The daughter of the moon goddess was killed by the golden dragon when she discovered the affair.” Yongsun closes her eyes and takes a deep breath.

A long moment passes, and Yongsun laces her fingers back together, remaining silent. Byulyi bites her lip and stares back at her. “I think you should have sent for some wine,” she blurts, running a hand through her hair with a nervous laugh.

Yongsun raises an eyebrow. “Maybe so. What do you think of it?”

“Of what?”

“All of it.”

Byulyi looks up at the stars blinking in through the beautiful glass windows and shrugs. “It’s a very interesting story. I’m still not sure what it has to do with me, though.”

Yongsun’s lips twitch up into a smile, but it fades as fast as it came. “I sense you have some idea what it all means already. Why don’t you try and figure it out?”

“You’re the daughter of the golden dragon,” Byulyi ventures.

“Mm,” Yongsun hums in encouragement. “Yes. And?”

“I’m…” Byulyi doesn’t want to say it, not really, but she has a feeling that it’s true. Deep down, some part of her remembers something in the words of Yongsun’s story. It resonates within her. “I’m the daughter of the moon goddess,” she says in a rush, shakily grabbing for the cup of tea and taking a sip to calm her anxious nerves. “You said she died, though. And I have no recollection of any of these events. It doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t, does it?” Yongsun muses. She stands and walks over to a small bookshelf not far from where they are sitting. As she trails her fingers over the books, while Byulyi watches, she says, “Every hundred years or so, a human finds their way to me. A human with violet eyes and a lock of silver hair the same hue as hers.” She pulls out a book and carries it over to the table, then slides it over to Byulyi. “Everything else varies. Gender, build, personality, hair color aside from the one lock of silver, skin color, voice…everything is different. All of their names relate to the stars, though. Constellations, stars, planets, all such things.”

Byulyi takes the book tentatively. “What about me?”

Yongsun gestures to the book. “That contains a record of every reincarnation of my love, the daughter of the moon goddess.”

Inside, just as Yongsun said, the reincarnations are listed. Each one has two pages: one that lists their name, years of birth and death, a short description of their appearance and demeanor, and their signature. The next page is filled by sketch or drawing or painting of each of them. No two of them look the same, except for the eyes and the silver bit of hair. There are even some that look like foreigners, with auburn hair and blonde hair, some with dark skin and some with pale white. Some are tall, broad men, while others are plump, short girls. There are names like Taebyeol, Byulmi, Astraea, Byul Jigye. Nearly a third of the book is blank, but at the very end, Byulyi finds one entry.

“It’s me,” she murmurs, brushing her fingers over the page. There’s a painting of her that she’s sure she never posed for; she’s dressed in a loose black tunic embroidered with tiny pieces of silver and diamonds, white trousers that cut off at her calves, and black sandals that lace up to her knees, and a pitch black circlet settled in her long, wavy silver hair. The name listed on the page is her own: “Byulyi.” No year, no age, no family name, just a description that reads:

Half-dragon demigod, born to Dal (goddess of the moon) and the great Silver dragon. Lover of Yongsun, heir of Mirae. Killed by Mirae on the Gleaming Mountain.

“I wasn’t sure when I first saw you. It’s been so long since I saw your face…even I forget, over time. It’s been many millennia with reincarnations that look different, with so little silver in their hair—I doubted myself, at first. But I know for sure, now. Somehow, for some reason, you have returned as yourself.”

Byulyi can feel something tugging in her chest. She’s not sure what it is, exactly, but it feels somewhat like a spark—and it travels up her spine to her head, right behind her eyes. Suddenly, her head is on fire, and she has to hold back a scream of pain. The noise comes out strangled and gasping, and she keels over.

* * *

_“There are many stars in the sky, Byulyi."_

* * *

_Byulyi stands on the aftermath of the battlefield, once a ridge of snow-capped mountains bordered by a thin valley and past that, mountains twice as tall. Now, the snow rushes down the side of the mountains in icy rivers to the flooded valley below. The sides of the mountains are scarred with avalanches and scorch marks, draped with the bodies of dragons and spirits alike—though the spirits are much less visible from where Byulyi’s standing._

_In the form of a woman, Mirae’s daughter approaches on foot. She is clad in a white shift and nothing else; a sharp contrast to Byulyi’s polished armor. The plate and mail sits hot and heavy on her, weighing down as much as the exhaustion of the battle, but Yongsun walks light-footed and confident, her head raised high._

_She is just as beautiful as she is at the end of every battle._

_Neither side can claim a win from this battle. It was bloody and terrible and Byulyi slew seven dragons on her own, and she hates this war as much as Yongsun does, but it is not their war to surrender and bring to an end. It is their parents’ war._

_“I suppose you will boast of your win to your mother,” Yongsun calls as she approaches. When she reaches Byulyi, she pulls off her helm and tosses it aside. “You look terrible.”_

_Both of them go home from battles like this claiming it a win so that they may retain their mothers’ favor. There’s no harm in it, really; their mothers fight the war, not the battles._

_“And you don’t,” Byulyi remarks. “How is it you always look so beautiful, even after a battle.”_

_Yongsun laughs, her laughter bright and clear. “Oh, stop it. You should see me in my natural form. I’m a mess.”_

_“How many did you kill?”_

_She grows quiet. “A lot. I tried not to use my fire but I had to, once; General Jang gave me an order and I couldn’t refuse without arousing suspicion. What about you?”_

_“Seven. More than usual. This was a worse battle than usual, though. I don’t blame you.” Byulyi wants to embrace her, kiss her, but she wouldn’t dare expose her secret in the open like this. Anyone could see them and report back to either of their mothers._

_“We cannot avoid it,” Yongsun agrees. She holds out her hand, but Byulyi doesn’t dare take it. Still, she holds it out. “One day?”_

_“One day,” Byulyi replies with a nod. She stoops to pick up her helm, and brushes off the dirt. “I’ll see you on the battlefield.”_

_Yongsun replies with a smile and watches Byulyi leave._

* * *

_“But the sun burns the brightest of them all.”_

* * *

_It’s the middle of the night. Byulyi is resting her head on Yongsun’s golden scales, eyes closed; she can feel her heart and wings beat in tandem, she can hear the slide and scrape of her scales, the gentle storm of her breath, the crackle of the fire in her belly. Above them, the stars stretch out like snowflakes dappling a deep black cloak._

_Byulyi’s clothes are thin, nothing but finely woven cotten, and the air is well below freezing. Yongsun’s radiating heat is enough to keep her warm, though, and even so—she is half dragon herself, as well as the daughter of the moon goddess, she who presides over the night, the stars, and the dark. The cold means nothing to her, nor to Yongsun._

_She feels Yongsun shift below her, and that’s all there is to indicate they’ve landed. Byulyi lifts her head and pushes herself into a sitting position. “Are we safe?”_

_Yongsun shakes out her wings, folds them, and inspects the rocks around them. With a sweep of her tail, she clears a smooth slab of rock and crouches down to let Byulyi slide off. Then, she shifts; her young draconic body folds down into the shape of a young woman, dressed in a gown and cloak. “My mother won’t find us here,” she assures Byulyi, rushing forward to embrace her._

_They’ve been running for weeks, trying to avoid their mothers. The war rages on around them, but it’s nothing to them anymore. Their bond grows stronger still._

_Byulyi cups Yongsun’s face in her hands. “I love you.”_

_Yongsun smiles and darts forward to catch her lips in a quick kiss. “I love you too, my star.”_

* * *

_“It burns so bright that when it rises in the morning, it makes all the other stars fade away.”_

* * *

_Byulyi feels like she’s underwater. The claw is pierced through her heart, but she is not dead yet. Shock fills her ears with static, and there is no pain—just water, all around her. Pressing in, filling her lungs, drowning her, but it’s not. There’s no water around her, only heat, only pain, why can’t she feel it?_

_She hears a scream, but it’s echoed and muffled so much that she can’t tell whose scream it is. It could be her mother, or the shriek of a dragon. Maybe it’s Yongsun._

_Where is Yongsun?_

_The claw slides out of her, and she blinks up at the golden dragon looming above her. Mirae. Yongsun’s mother. She looks so much like Yongsun, only bigger, and crueler. There’s a twist to her lip and a darkness to her eyes that Byulyi has never seen in Yongsun._

_“Yongsun,” she tries to say, but no sound comes. “Yongsun…”_

* * *

Byulyi wakes in a cold sweat, gasping and shaking. “Yongsun!” she cries out, unable to stop herself. Her mind is on fire with pain. It feels like all of her memories have been shoved aside to make room for more, more memories of another life.

“You’re awake,” Yongsun breathes out in relief. Immediately taking hold of Byulyi’s hands. “How are you feeling?”

Byulyi’s breath is raspy and her chest feels heavy, but she manages a shaky inhale as she sits up and rubs her forehead. She can feel power thrumming beneath her skin, crackling at the tips of her fingers and ears. She knows it’s the same power that she used to have, in those old but new memories, and she wonders how she ever managed to survive without it.

“I remember,” she chokes out.

“You—” Yongsun cuts herself off, blinking in disbelief. “You remember what?”

“Everything.”

Byulyi doesn’t think she’ll ever forget the way Yongsun inflates with happiness at that one word. Her eyes light up, her smile brightens, her skin glows—she looks like she did before, thousands of years ago.

It doesn’t take long for Byulyi to realize that she’s really, truly back in all her power—she’s no longer the mortal daughter of Moon Yeonseo and Moon Yunyi. She’s once again the trueborn demigod half-dragon daughter of the moon goddess and the Great Silver Dragon.

Their eyes meet, and that seems to break any restraint in either of them. Byulyi surges forward and pulls Yongsun into a deep kiss, pouring thousands of years of longing into it. Far too many years have passed since she last got to hold Yongsun; she won’t be letting her go anytime soon.

* * *

The queen takes the news completely in stride, much to Byulyi’s immense confusion, but one of the hatchlings seems to have a far more difficult time with it. While Queen Chaewon beamed and congratulated Byulyi for returning to her full power after Yongsun explained everything the next morning at breakfast, Jungkook nearly faints with the bowl of fruit he’s carrying in.

“Sorry!” he squeaks, swooning a bit. He stumbles to Yongsun’s side and puts the bowl of fruit between her and Queen Chaewon, avoiding eye contact with Byulyi. “I’m just—just, ah….”

“He’s technically related to the silver dragon,” Yongsun explains to Byulyi. “Heejin and Soyeon too, of course. Their grandmother was his younger half-sister. They don’t look like him, of course; they’re jade, like their mother and grandmother.”

Byulyi recalls that dragon society is purely matriarchal, and hatchlings typically have the same color scales as their mother. “Ah,” she says, noting how Soyeon rolls her eyes at her brother and steals a thick slice of bread slathered with butter and scoops a heap of strawberry jam onto it before leaving the dining room.

Seokjin reacts with a hint of surprise, and jokes that he must have known she needed to be up there, deep down, when he chose her to replace Haseul to escort the queen. “I can’t wait to tell Jimin, though. He always knew something was different about you, but I always thought he was just being a suspicious little gossip. You know how he is.”

They’re walking down the hall alone, since Yongsun allowed Byulyi to explore the palace without guide after what happened the previous night. Byulyi pinned her hair up again and changed into the tunic and trousers that were left when she returned to her old rooms to collect her things and bring them to Yongsun’s room. Yongsun insisted that she move into the tower with her, and Byulyi wasn’t exactly going to refuse. They never got a chance to even share a room during their short-lived affair before Byulyi was killed.

“Yongsun never explained what happened to her mother. Mirae, was it? And your parents, I suppose. What became of all of them?” Seokjin asks.

Byulyi shrugs. “I don’t really care, honestly. It’s been a very long time, and I have other things to worry about. I was never close to my mother, and I never really saw my father—and Mirae can impale herself on a sword for all I care, but Yongsun would have said something if she were still a threat.”

“I suppose so.”

Byulyi’s thankful that she still has a friend like Seokjin to help her stay sane after her past life collided with this one so suddenly. She still wants to return to the city, and Seokjin’s serving as a clear reminder that she still has a life down there, which she’s immensely grateful for. If he wasn’t here, she might have decided to stay her whole life here, and she doesn’t think she’d be happy like that.

She hasn’t told Yongsun about her wish to return yet, but she hopes that Yongsun will understand.

* * *

When she finally does tell Yongsun, Byulyi’s surprised to find that her reaction is one of pure enthusiasm and nothing else. Apparently, Yongsun has been wanting to experience life among humans and enjoy the culture of the city for a long time now, but never got around to it. So after packing up half of her hoard and subsequently unpacking it at Byulyi’s insistence, Yongsun packs her few necessities, leaves Wheein in charge of the palace in her absence, and they finally depart with one extra member of the party on the last day of the festival.

(Yongsun wanted to fly down in her natural form, “to make things easier,” but as much as Byulyi wanted to see her fully grown size, the city would hardly take well to seeing a giant gold dragon descending upon them from the palace. So, they loaded up a few draft horses found in Yongsun’s meager stables with her luggage and traveled on foot.)

They reached the city to a small amount of confusion from the populace—they were convinced that Yongsun was only a guard and they absolutely had that much luggage going up, and that was that. Queen Chaewon had suggested calling Yongsun an emissary of the gods, but Yongsun didn’t want that sort of reverence from the people. She wanted a normal life—well, as normal as life could be.

Queen Chaewon gifted Yongsun a pretty mansion near the palace, which was soon filled with several more trips of Yongsun’s hoard, and they often took trips back up the mountain to see Wheein, Hoseok, and the three hatchlings. Jin and Jimin remained Byulyi’s closest friends, and Queen Chaewon made frequent visits for tea.

One could certainly say they had a happily ever after, but that’s up to you to decide. Who knows what more adventures could await a pair of immortal lovers like Yongsun and Byulyi?

**Author's Note:**

> To anyone else reading this: Please leave comments and kudos! I will also be expanding this into a longer fic, hopefully, so if you'd like to see that please subscribe!!!!


End file.
